Imagine if NanaOn-Sha's classic rhythm action game PaRappa the Rapper had involved doing nothing but tapping the X button over and over and over again to a 2/4 beat. Pretty lame, right? Replace tapping X with moving the Wii Remote up and down and you've essentially got Major Minor's Majestic March, an ignoble and disappointing follow-up to PaRappa (and its less-well known but equally kick-ass spin-off, UmJammer Lammy).

In co-op mode, one person marches and the other person recruits.

The ingredients for another quirky NanaOn-Sha hit would seem, at first glance, to be in place. Producer Masaya Matsuura has been reunited with Rodney Greenblat, the artist responsible for PaRappa's signature "flat" art style; and the story, which introduces us to Major Minor, an anthropomorphic cat who wants to be the best drum major around, mimics PaRappa's quest to win the heart of his girl by trying hard and being the best he can be.

But where PaRappa's tale was sweet and offbeat, Major Minor's is just saccharine. The game's tepid plot includes a villain named Eggplant Fox, who makes a few half-hearted attempts to sabotage the band before giving up, and a dull sidekick named Tom who leaves the band for a level, then inexplicably returns, creating what passes for dramatic tension.

During Drills you'll recreate precise marching maneuvers by ... shaking the Wii Remote as quickly as possible.

Major Minor's marching baton somehow holds the reincarnated spirit of his Great Great Grandmother Gladiola (GGGG), who acts as his mentor. But she's no Chop Chop Master Onion. The slogan she croaks out at the beginning of each stage ("March, march, keep on marchin' / March, march, keep on marchin' / Keeeeep Onnnnn Maaaaaarch-ing!") just seems like it's straining way too hard to be "quirky."

But who cares about the story, right? This is a rhythm action game, and one in which you get to be the super-cool guy or gal strutting at the head of the marching band, leading the progression and keeping time. But when everything that's cool about being in a marching band is stripped away, and you're left slouching on your couch moving a small white rectangle of plastic up and down -- alone, most likely -- it's not even close to being fun.

As you march through a stage by pumping your arm while the musicians follow automatically behind you, your band dutifully belts out a series of 2/4 parade hits like the "Liberty Bell" march, "Pomp and Circumstance" and Tchaikovsky's "Slavonic March." You can recruit new band members by flicking to the left or right as you walk by them (this technique can also be used to snag power-ups). There are a few problems here, though. One is that the twists seem to register maybe two-thirds of the time, and the other is that twisting isn't fun for the wrists.

The added challenge is that the musicians all like to walk at different speeds. They start to get angry -- and will eventually quit the band -- if they aren't walking at a pace that's comfortable for them. As a bandleader, it's theoretically your job to adjust the tempo to keep everyone happy, but the problem is they never are. What exactly am I supposed to do when the flute-playing sunflower thinks the pace is too slow, but the fat pig with the sousaphone can't keep up? (I'm not being rude; there actually is a sousaphone-playing pig.)

I should be able to subtly alter the tempo at just the right time to keep everyone happy enough so they don't leave, but in practice there's nothing subtle about it. The band has a momentum all of its own, and often my efforts to slow things down would often simply cause Major Minor to trip over his own feet. The stages include some interesting environmental challenges -- like going up and down stairs and slopes -- which require speeding up or slowing down the tempo to adjust, but without the finesse necessary, these interesting touches seem like a waste.

There are a couple of genuinely unexpected and magical moments in Major Minor's Majestic March, such as when the band falls through a rotting segment of a bridge and ends up marching underwater briefly, or when its instruments get stolen and it raids a junkyard, playing on chainsaws, oil drums and whatever it can get its hands on.

But these moments are marred by graphics that, while colorful, are painfully jagged and low-res; fussy controls; and the frustration of hearing old GGGG screeching through the Wii Remote that "you're going too slowwwww." Among other things. I haven't even touched on the Drills yet -- short interludes where you wave the Wii Remote around like an idiot to trace various patterns on the screen -- a case of pointless motion sensitivity exploitation.

Inexplicably, at the end of each stage you're asked to select which band member's performance you enjoyed the most from the assortment of elephants, alligators, lady bugs and dolphins. Who cares?

Furthermore, there are only eight stages, which just isn't enough in this day and age. After completing the game for the first time, you unlock Normal mode, then Challenge mode after that. In subsequent modes, new bandmate types will show up that you haven't seen before, and there will be more power-ups and junk on the screen, but it's still the same songs.

Recruit the Buddy Beagles to beef up your trumpet section.

Admittedly, it is cool the way the music changes depending on the makeup of musicians in your band -- for example, if you have nothing but Buddy Beagles in your troop, then you'll hear nothing but trumpets.

But the MIDI-like sound quality doesn't do the tunes -- even the somewhat catchy title theme composed by Matsuura himself -- any justice. The band lurches along with moments that border on cacophony as you try to negotiate the latest awkward tempo change, sounding like a high school junior concert band's first rehearsal after summer break.

Unfortunately, I can't even recommend this title for kids. Even though the voiceovers and dialogue are condescending enough to trick you into believing you're following along with a "Child's First Reader" storybook, the fiddliness of the controls and need to constantly juggle tempo would, I suspect, have the little ones tossing aside their batons in no time and going back to Rock Band.


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If one of the big draws of rhythm action games is to let people experience the joy of making music without actually having to buy an instrument, or practice, or have a particularly good ear, then Major Minor's Majestic March fails. You might as well just find a medium-sized stick, put on a CD of John Philip Sousa's greatest hits, and raise and lower the stick to your heart's content, because Major Minor's Majestic March isn't much more interactive than that -- and at least your band will be in tune and on tempo.

This review is based on a retail copy of the game provided by the publisher.